How Long?
by whateverkillsyourcaterpillar
Summary: Prompt: How long have you been hurting yourself? Alternate ending for 13x12 Trigger Warning: Self-Harm


"Amelia please open the door," Owen begged through the door of the apartment. "Please Amelia, please."

But she couldn't hear him, and even though he knew she was avoiding him, he just had a feeling.

Maybe it was just because he hadn't touched his wife in so long, but before he had really considered what he was doing, his shoulder was slamming into the door and he was stepping inside the apartment.

He didn't see her when he walked in, but he could hear the light sound of water running into the bathtub. Owen then felt a stream of embarrassment run through him, maybe he had overreacted, she was taking a bath and he had just broken into someone else's apartment.

But he wanted to see her, he wasn't going to scare her to death, he just wanted to see the beauty that he hadn't been able to witness in so long.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he heard a quiet, gentle sob, and his heart broke even more.

The door was cracked open a little bit and he moved his head near the opening. But what Owen saw made him feel like ice water was running down his back.

Amelia had a scalpel pressed tightly against the skin of her wrist, a thin trail of blood following along behind it. There were two other red lines below the one she was currently making and he wished he had broken the door down sooner.

He pushed the door open with his hand and stepped further inside.

"Amelia?"

Her head shot up, the scalpel clattering to the floor, droplets of blood laying along its path. Amelia pulled her arm toward her stomach as if he hadn't seen what she had done.

He rolled up his sleeves as he knelt silently beside the tub. He pulled her arm from her stomach and pressed it into the water to wash it clean. While her arm was submerged in the bath, he took the wash cloth from the edge of the tub and washed the blood from her stomach.

He ran the cloth along her shoulders while tears built in his eyes.

"Amelia, how long have you been hurting yourself?"

She sniffled and brought her other hand up to wipe her eyes.

"Since the day I walked out on you, Owen."

His head fell, "Will you come with me, please, let me take care of you."

She looked down at her wrist as he pulled it out of the water and wrapped it in a towel. He met her eyes again, while he was holding pressure on her open wounds.

"Okay."

He almost missed the whimpered word coming from her lips. He turned the water off and grabbed a towel from the cabinet, helping her stand then wrapping her in the towel.

He led her to a bedroom and sat her down, "Do you know where a first aid kit is?"

She told him where to find it; he left and returned with the first aid kit and a glass of water. He set them down on the side table and unwrapped her arm from the towel.

"This is going to sting," he said as he pulled out the anti-bacterial spray. Owen waited for her to nod them began to clean the cuts lining her arm.

He wrapped and taped up her injuries, then went to grab her bag of clothes and coat.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded and stood up a little wobbly. Owen held her coat out for her to step into, then slid into his own.

He led her out of the apartment and to his truck, opening the door for her to get in. They drove silently back home, Amelia staring out the window and Owen chancing occasional glances at his wife.

They pulled up to the house and she finally turned to him, "I'm sorry, Owen."

"We're going to take care of you, okay?"

Amelia nodded as they walked inside, heading toward their bedroom. Owen settled his wife into their bed and pulled the blankets across her stomach. He sat down next to her, placing his hand along her face.

"Get some sleep, okay? I'll be right here."

"Owen? Will you lay with me?"

Owen gave her a gentle smile and nodded his head. He went around to his side and kicked off his shoes before sliding into bed next to her.

He laid on his side propped up on his elbow, his free arm draped across her, tracing circles on her shoulder.

"It was better than doing drugs," she whispered, not looking at him. "I'm sorry, I just- I just needed something."

"Talk to me next time, please. Even if one day we're not together, talk to me, let me help."

She rolled to her side, curling into his chest, her injured arm laid between them. She nodded her head against him and he sighed laying his arm over her body and pulling her closer to him.

Amelia relaxed against him, falling into a peaceful sleep for the first time in a while. Owen pressed a kiss to her forehead, then tucked her head under his chin. He let out a deep breath, reveling in the feeling of her in his arms again.


End file.
